A Meeting of Chance
by Pensive Inquiry
Summary: Two unlikely characters run into each other in the world of Minecraftia. A member of the supposedly extinct human race, and Andr, an Enderone. It's a historic event and following lifetime for the two of them. (Andr is a character taken from the Mob Talker Mod. Mob Talker and Minecraft belong to their respective owners, I do not own either of them.)
1. An Awkward Encounter

"Sooo…" the stranger said carefully, "you're…"

"An Enderone, yes," finished Andr, sitting awkwardly in the corner of the damp room. In her hands was a cup of warm cocoa, steam still rising from the top. She was sitting atop a bed, the one belonging to the stranger across from her. He was an odd specimen, one of the "humans" that she had been told about as a child. He looked familiar to the males of her village, a slight stubble from his chin and scruffy looking hair. Despite his deepened voice, indicating that he would be somewhere in his adolescence, he was quite the small creature. If Andr stood up, she was sure that he'd barely reach her waist.

A long silence overcame the two of them, the man apparently in deep thought, the Enderone thinking of what to say. Humans had been extinct, legends for children, yet there she was in the house of one. Their stature, assuming that he was average, was over exaggerated, but he definitely looked the part. Tanned skin tone, high resistance to sunlight and water and well known capability to craft and build by their lonesome. There was only one bed and one chair, indicating that either he did not expect company or didn't want any. He didn't appear to be a social type, the human was gripping a sword so hard that his knuckles were turning white. Despite the hostile position, he never made a move towards her, not even looking Andr in the eye.

"Do you have a name?" The question caught Andr off guard, a name? According to the tales, humans did not have the concept of identifiable names, but went by titles. All the humans that she had heard of were known by simple words, "Crafter", "Knight", "Builder" and etc…, but never was there a legend of a human with a name. The testificates, far cousins of the extinct race, had names but even they were the originators of the legends in the first place.

"My name is Andr," she replied carefully, now feeling slightly threatened that he was staring into her eyes, "Do you have a name too?" The stranger's face softened, the signs of a smile slightly poking at the side of his mouth. Andr noticed that he loosened his grasp on his sword as well, a positive sign. While normally she'd be able to teleport outside of the dwelling, the rain outside would only hospitalize her outside. Teleportation and water did not mix very well, and she doubted that her strength would do very much against a well sharpened blade.

"Patrick, my name is Patrick," he returned in a much calmer voice. He still seemed very tense, but the fact that he was able to give his name suggested that he'd remain peaceful. Of course it didn't seem that way when he walked in to see her looking around his small house. To Andr, it looked more like an old shack with a bed, windows and a couple books. Testificates were known to build cabins farther out to help travellers, some Enderones even built their own homes outside the End, hoping to explore the brave, new world.

Patrick began rubbing the small stubble at the end of his chin. Andr recognized it as a sign that he was in deep thought, many of the males did that at the library when looking through books on philosophy and science. The question that went through her mind was how he knew of her kind, or led on that he did, when Enderones assumed humans to be extinct. Did humans similarly have legends about them? Could two civilizations have lived next to each other without either of them noticing? Perhaps their ancestors met at one point? She thought it best to ask about such things later, instead trying to focus on her host.

"You Enders don't like water, do you?" Patrick asked in such a way that suggested he was familiar with their weakness. While the term 'Enders' was considered offensive, a slang that came from testificates villages, Andr decided to overlook it. He might not have even realized that it would have been considered offensive.

"Rain, to be specific," Andr spoke, "It effects our ability to teleport." Patrick nodded, before speaking again.

"You didn't plan on stealing anything, did you?"

"What? No!" Out of all the questions that Andr expected a human to ask her in first contact, desire to steal was not one of them. Granted, she did unknowingly break into his home, but still. It didn't even have a lock on it and the dust indicated that no one had been there for a long time.

"Then you're free to stay the night here then," Patrick stated, a small smile apparent on his face. He stood up and approached her, craning his neck slightly to continue looking at her properly. It was slightly comical, but he still gripped the sword with his left hand. With his right, he extended it to her in an unfamiliar gesture. After several moments of staring at it, the thought occurred to Andr that she was supposed to grab it. Tentatively she reached out for it and to her inner delight he did not retract his hand in either contempt or fear. The two hands clasped firmly around each other, awkwardly with one being double the size of the other, and he began shaking slowly. Andr concluded that it was a ritual of agreement to do so.

"Thank you so much," Andr said with deep gratitude. With such a powerful thunderstorm outside, she doubted that she'd be able to get ten metres with teleportation before passing out. The darkness of night did not help her case either. She was quite fit and might have been able to outrun the slow moving storm, if she could've figured out just where the storm was. The moon couldn't even be seen through the clouds and it had been over two hours since it began, so there was no way she could reason out where the rain began and where it ended.

"You can sleep in the bed," Patrick added, ending the hand-shake and moving towards an old chest, "Though I don't know what good it would do for a woman of your… stature…" Andr briefly paused, what was a woman? Was it another slang that she was not familiar with, or was it the feminine term for his species?

"Oh no, I could never take your bed," Andr said quickly, just catching up with what he said, "I was just looking for a spot to wait out the rain." Patrick waved a hand dismissively before calling back to her from partially inside the chest.

"It's going to be here all night, so you might as well try to get some sleep. If you're going to head off to wherever you go to in the morning, I'd have to guess that you'd need a good night sleep. Besides, the chair is much better for me than you and I'd never live with myself if a guest of mine slept on the floor."

Pulling his head out of the chest, Patrick desperately rummaged around to try and pull out a large blanket. A long red quilt, sewn together with a plethora of different materials was slowly dragged out of the chest. He unravelled it before handing it to her. After saying her thanks, Andr began arranging herself on the bed to go to sleep. The bed was better as a low chair than an actual bed and even then her head would hit the ceiling if she stood up too fast. Taking the pillow as a back rest, she placed it upon the wall behind her and lay back on it. She then draped the quilt over herself, which was thankfully big enough to cover most of her for the night, and stretched her legs as she yawned. As Patrick had said, it was fairly late.

Looking over, Patrick was in a similar position to her in the chair. He wrapped himself in a smaller, blue blanket and sat on an old cushion. Andr would have rather had him sleep in his bed than the chair, but she didn't wish to argue with her host. In any culture, as she had found, arguing with one's host was a sign of very poor manners. Licking the tips of his fingers, Patrick extinguished the candle flame that she had lit up upon her arrival. The one roomed house was submerged into darkness, so black that neither being could see the other from the few metres that separated them. The only sound that remained was the pitter-pat of rain and their soft breathing.

"Good night Andr," Patrick whispered sleepily, sounding like he was ready to pass out.

"Good night Patrick," Andr whispered in return, thinking of all the implications of first contact and the possibilities of the next day's morning as she closed her eyes.


	2. Getting to Know You

The sun peeked its morning rays through the open window, light slowly illuminating the small home. Andr awoke groggily as the sunlight reached her face, a still somewhat unfamiliar feeling of warmth coming over her. She was still getting used to the solar and lunar cycles, as opposed to the omnipresent light that was found in the End. Shielding her eyes she stood up, momentarily forgetting her place. The resounding thud of her head smashing into the ceiling prompted her to hiss in pain, quickly silenced as she regarded her host, who was still fast asleep in his chair.

Awkwardly hunched over Andr walked across the room towards the door. There was still a light rainfall outside, but it looked as though it would dissipate shortly. After creakily opening the door and stepping outside, Andr locked her fingers together before stretching her arms over her head. While she was incredibly grateful for Patrick's generosity the night before, the shack was hardly fit for catering to an Enderone. It was quite cramped, the cracks and pops that sounded from her muscles and bones further adding to the point. Still, she thought, a small room was much better than having to sleep under a tree. Again.

"Did you have a good sleep?" Patrick asked, silently walking through the door. Andr turned around, surprised to see him up. Only a minute ago he looked practically dead, but all of a sudden he was up and out. He either had a habit of making long pauses in the conversation or he sensed her confusion, as he added, "I've been awake for a while now, I was just hoping you'd sleep in a bit longer. Now that you're up though, I thought it'd be the time to go and try and get some breakfast."

"You can rest if you'd like," Andr returned, "I was just stretching." Patrick seemed to contemplate going back to sleep, though he was distracted by a low gurgling sound emanating from her stomach. He only shook his head before turning around to go back inside. A moment later, he returned carrying a small pouch and the sword from the night prior.

"There's a small testificate village to the north of here," he said, craning his neck to address her properly, "I was thinking of getting something to eat there, you may join me if you like." Andr paused for a moment, thinking it over. She had never seen a testificate village up close, and it could be a brilliant chance to learn about the new world around her, but she felt uneasy about the prospect. Minecraftia was a land that was still quite foreign to her and her kind in general. After several moments of thinking, she nodded and followed alongside him.

"How far is this village?" she asked, trying to peer through the trees. The rain had turned to a light mist, barely even noticeable with her large coat and hat.

"I'd say about an hour if we keep a steady pace," Patrick replied, "It's better that way anyways, the bakery won't usually open for a bit after dawn." The two continued on in silence for several minutes afterwards, neither of them saying anything in the forest. The only sound that they could hear was the sound of grass under their feet and the occasional chirp of a bird.

'It's so quite…' Andr thought to herself, puzzled by the silence. Ever since her first arrival from the End, the world that she had discovered was full of noise. Nothing was ever as peaceful as her homeland, yet the forest that was so loud the night earlier was practically vacant. Aside from several birds and insects, she hadn't seen any other animals around.

"Why do you live out here?" Andr questioned, prompting her companion to turn to look at her, "If there's a village nearby, why not make a house there?" Patrick's pace considerably slowed at that question, his face contorting in thought. From the looks of things, it seemed like he had never thought of it himself. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, his jaw moving but no sound ever came out.

"It's… complicated…" he shrugged. The awkward silence that followed and Andr's blank look compelled him to give more explanation. "Well… it's just…" he sighed loudly, picking up the pace again, "I felt like I never fit in around testificates. The village raised me ever since I was a kid, and they're happy to see me now and again, but I just feel like I don't belong with them. It's why I live out in the forest, don't need to worry about that so much."

"There aren't any other humans around?" Andr asked, a sound of concern creeping into her voice. The legends that she had heard about at home suggested a civilization of humans, a great people that had their own villages, cities and wonders. Was he the last member of his kind? It was a hard thought to stomach properly. Andr had been separated from her kind ever since her journey began in Minecraftia, to learn and experience the new world, but she knew that she'd always be able to return to the End whenever she wanted. Patrick evidently was adopted by a race that assumedly didn't know much about him.

"I've only met two others," he conceded, his voice going slightly monotone, "There's John, a hermit. He's nice, but his mind isn't in the best of health. Then there's Steve. He's… well… I think he's a mute actually, I've never heard him say a word, but he's quite the good writer. He was living in a cave last I heard of him. I haven't seen either of them in months though, so I'm not sure where they are at the moment."

The tall Enderone pondered this information, her heart torn halfway between hope and dread. There were other humans that he had met, which was good, but only two others. Though, there was a brighter possibility to the ordeal. Patrick had, or she had assumed, not gone very far from the village. While he did live in solitude, the way he referred to the village would imply he'd generally remain in the area. Perhaps there were human settlements and he just never found them? Andr didn't mention this possibility however, he seemed happy enough in his cabin. Recommending him to wander the wilderness in possibly vain hope wouldn't be very beneficial. Still, he still had two human friends, even if one of them was mute.

"What I'd like to know," the human continued, "is what you're doing all the way out here? All of the Enders that I've spotted were usually around the mountains." His voice had elated a bit and he sounded legitimately happy to talk to someone. Andr's nerves were momentarily plucked by the slang, but she left it to his ignorance of their kind. After all, he did say that he'd only spotted other Enderones and never implied that he spoke to them.

"Well I've been on my Colonial Journey for two weeks now and-"

"Pardon the interruption," Patrick said, "but what's the 'Colonial Journey'?" Andr's mind was thrown for a loop before she remembered who was in her company. The Colonial Journey would be a term only familiar to other members of her kind. Thinking of the best way to educate her newfound friend, she began to explain.

"Well when an _Enderone_ becomes sixteen years of age," she stated, "He or she is sent out to Minecraftia to learn and explore. Some return with new resources and types of food, others settle down and help guide newer arrivals. As I was saying, I turned sixteen two weeks ago, exactly now that I think about it, and my first teleportation to Minecraftia just dropped me off here."

"I see…" Patrick commented, nodding his head in thought, "So what exactly are you going to do here then?" It is then Andr's turn to give pause as she tried to think of ways to articulate her exact plan. Unfortunately, the only thing that she could think of was to say that she didn't really have a plan.

Enderones at the age of fifteen would spend a full year preparing for their eventual journey, gathering supplies, learning from those who returned and planning out a course of action. In truth, she could have spent five years and still would be so ill-prepared. There were some things that the school could simply not teach. The concept of day and night, for one, the presence of other races and species, to be another, and the necessity to go out and find food for a third. The End had plenty of food for her kind and was never very far away. Andr's original food supply had already been spent and she hadn't found a reliable food source. She found that she could eat grass and leaves, but they tasted terrible and offered little in value. Water was another major problem, for whatever reason rain and large bodies of it distorted teleportation. Trying to go any long distance through a rainstorm could rip an Enderone in half. Andr would know, her grandfather was the first to do so. He miraculously survived and was one of the first teachers at the Colonisation School.

"For now," she replied after a while of thinking, "learn everything I can." Andr's voice was firm, but she knew that it sounded more like an excuse to avoid an answer than anything. Patrick nodded again, seemingly satisfied with it.

"I can help you that," he said cheerfully, "I was in the same boat a couple years back. If you'd like to hang around, though. I'd understand if you would rather go it alo-"

"No!" Andr blurted out suddenly and then chuckled awkwardly for a moment. Andr was still trying to figure out what a boat was, and how both of them could be in the same one, but she took the phrase as a sign of understanding. "No, err, I'd love it if you could help teach me about this place. There's so much to learn about Minecraftia, I wouldn't know where to begin without some kind of guide."

"Well I'd love to help," Patrick returned, "Us survivalists gotta stick together." The two continued to chat in a similar manner for the following hour, discussing the intricacies of Minecraftia and survival skills. Andr had asked questions about some of the fauna and flora that she had noticed since her arrival. As time passed, they eventually began discussing cultural differences and mannerisms. It was odd, Andr had thought, to be having an intellectual discussion with a human who was the size of an Enderone child. What surprised her was that he was supposed to be fairly tall, at least compared to testificates.

After a long time of getting to know each other and comparing survival strategies, many of Andr's being found ineffective, the two eventually began to see the nearby town. From what she could see, Andr picked out the outline of roughly seven buildings. It was still fairly dark out, but there was definitely enough light coming from the rising sun to see the village. Patrick pointed out the bakery and library, the two buildings of note for a survivalist. The former so they could pick up something to eat, the latter so that Andr could pick up a few books and maps.

"Should I teleport us to the bakery?" Andr offered. They were coming up on the town, the outline of testificates could be seen behind around the buildings. When she looked down to see his reaction, Patrick only shook his head in dismissal.

"No," he replied, "testificates are a bit… jumpy… around Enders… err, Enderones. Teleporting in would probably scare them, let's just walk up all nice and calmly." Andr had to agree, to a point at least. With her stature, which was apparently twice the size of the average testificate or human, her large black cloak and her capability for magic, she would seem quite threatening to strangers. Going over these details in her mind, she could begin to see why Patrick was so scared of her the night prior.

"Fair enough," Andr said. As they approached, she began to see just how untrusting testificates actually were. Everyone in the road instinctively gave the two of them a wide girth and she could practically feel their stares from behind. Patrick attempted to wave hello, even verbally greet some of them, to no avail.

Candlelight flickered from inside the library, the building where Patrick's adoptive mother resided. The windows were hardly see through, filled with dust and grime, but the exterior generally had an accommodating setting. Bells sounded as they opened the door, alerting the testificate that Andr assumed to be his parental figure. His mother seemed quite happy at first, but her motherly smile changed to shock as Andr ducked through the doorway.

"Hello Ms. Foster," Patrick said awkwardly, "I'd like you to meet my new friend Andr. Before you ask, she is an Enderone, but quite friendly." Andr hesitantly waved, a gesture that was returned after an extended pause.

"Patrick, may I speak to you for a minute?" Ms. Foster said, beckoning him over to the other side of the room. Patrick obliged, reluctantly. Before going to talk to his adoptive mother, whom he evidently identified by her surname, he waved Andr over to a bookshelf of design and home building. She wasn't that familiar with Testifian, but she could make out some of the words. While Patrick said that he'd pay for her purchases in the village, she didn't wish to put too much a strain on his resources. Andr spent several minutes searching the shelf, and several nearby stacks of books that had not yet been shelved, before selecting four items. A map of the general area that Patrick had suggested to her and three books on gardening, architecture and local wildlife respectively. Like most of the items that testificates owned, the books seemed to be comically small for an Enderone to use. Fortunately for Andr, she had both a friend who could read said items effectively and a keen sense of eyesight.

Turning around to wait for her friend to finish his quiet conversation, her hearing picked up on several words. Two that stood out were 'dangerous' and 'untrustworthy'. Patrick seemed to be fairly upset with these words as his body language expressed disproval of the terms. He had become tense, but continued to talk with Ms. Foster. He turned to leave after another minute of chatting, only for his arm to be grabbed by his mother. She pulled him back before quickly whispering something in his ear and then released him. He turned towards the door and walked right out, waving to Andr that it was time to leave.

"Don't we have to pay for these?" Andr questioned, a tone of concern overcoming her voice. She wasn't quite sure if she should have just walked out the door like that. It didn't look like Patrick had paid for them, but Ms. Foster made to move to stop them from leaving.

"No, she said we could have them for free," he replied somewhat happily. His cheerful mood had been partially soured, but he pressed that there wasn't anything wrong. "Consider this a belated birthday present."

"Thank you." Andr whispered, not really directing it anywhere. What had he and his mother spoken about? Was there any cause for concern? Pushing these thoughts to the side, the two of them approached the bakery. Before entering though, Patrick held up his hand in a motion that suggested he wanted her to stay put.

"It'll be quicker if I just go in myself," he explained quickly as he entered the store. Without a chance to ask about the specifics of why it would be quicker, Andr just stood next to the door. Testificates could be seen peering out of nearby windows and from down the street. Sweat began to form on her forehead, and it wasn't from the warmth of the sun. Being nervous was expected. Being fearful was acceptable. Hostility was something that Andr didn't expect to see from the small village at all. Based on the description that Patrick had given of the residents, she would have thought that they would have tried to ignore her more than anything.

Andr's concentration was broken as the doorbell sounded with Patrick walking out with a large box. By then, some of the townsfolk were standing in the doorway, one particular testificate male bearing a particularly angry grimace. Carrying a large box of what she assumed to be food, Patrick wordlessly began walking down the street towards the forest line. Thankful for the sudden reason to leave, she quickly followed up behind up, books in arms. Andr wanted to ask what was wrong, but couldn't find the right words to say, or which issue to ask about for that matter. Shaking his head angrily and exhaling loudly, Patrick tried to maintain a quick pace. Being quite tall, she was able to keep up pace, but never once did she make a move to stop him or move ahead of him. The two therefore walked in silence, the human in a state of perpetual anger, the Enderone from an inability to think of what to say.


	3. The Way Back

"What happened back there?" Andr asked, breaking the long period of silence. She could see Patrick visibly tense, a slight twitch coming from his right arm. Slowing down slightly, he took in a deep breath before looking downwards at the grass. It took several moments before his head came back up, only enough for him to see her face, to allow him to speak.

"The village, as they were all too happy to explain to me, weren't so keen on me bringing you there," he explained with a slight edge, "Bunch of idiots, didn't even do anything and they were already accusing you of half the crimes you can think of. They're afraid of anything slightly different, always have been and most likely always will be."

Andr's mind wandered as she took in his response, trying to form the appropriate reaction. Patrick had mentioned that his village would be… suspicious… of her, but the way he described it would indicate avoidance, not outright hostility. From what she could tell, the testificates also treated him in a similar way at one point. Recalling a point in their previous conversation, Patrick did say that there were some in the village that would rather have him stay away. He also added that those that said that only came down to about three or four of the whole village. Based on what she saw, there wasn't a single being that didn't have some kind of bad reaction to her upon entering the village.

"Do you think that I'm…" Andr began, "scary?"

"They're afraid of difference, I told you."

"That's not what I asked."

Working his jaw, Patrick could quite clearly be seen as nervous. His head became downcast again, the wait until it came up much shorter than before however. Blinking nervously, he began to respond in a slow and methodical tone.

"I do not think that you are scary," he stated, clearly leading on that a 'but' in the sentence, "I do however think that you are threatening."

"What's the difference?" Andr questioned, her voice dropping considerably. The idea that she legitimately scared her newest, and only, friend in Minecraftia was a terrible one. Testificates had a reproachful reaction from her, and there were no signs of friendly or intelligent life for miles. The creatures that lurked at night were overly aggressive, while the domesticated beasts either were incapable of understanding her or did not wish to.

"Well," Patrick said, breaking her out of her stupor, "Scary is when something goes out of its way to try and harm something else. Threatening is when something can be really scary if it wanted to be, but has the morality to decide not to. I don't believe you'd ever do anything to hurt anyone if you could help it."

Andr sniffed, a small smile appearing on her face. Perhaps she had teleported to a conclusion far too quickly. She would admit that standing next to a creature twice her height would be quite intimidating, but overall felt relieved that her friend still trusted her. After all, if he didn't feel safe around her he could have simply just left her at the village, or gone out for help before she woke up.

"In all honesty," Patrick added, "you're more familiar to me than most of the people that I run into around here."

"You think so?" Andr asked, her mood brightened noticeably. As an Enderone standing next to a human, she'd imagine that she'd be one of the most foreign looking things to him.

"You look a lot more like a human than a testificate, just with purple eyes. And well, you know…" he replied, gesturing towards her, "Besides, you're a lot more open than most of the villagers."

Andr had never really thought about it before, but humans and Enderones looked scarily similar. The testificates had large noses, dark brown skin and were completely bald, Patrick had relatively light skin, hair and had a familiar looking facial structure. The questions regarding their two species began piling up inside her mind. Andr already had her suspicions around having Enderones interact with humans in the past, but with him bringing up the physical similarities, she was beginning to wonder if they shared a common ancestor. Aside from magic and height, the two different species looked indiscernible. Still, there were far too many questions to start putting definite answers down. She'd have to consult the Dragon when she returned to the End.

The two of them continued on, asking questions getting to know the other a bit better. As they began to climb a relatively large hill, the image of Patrick's home began to appear off in the distance. It was relatively close to river, something that Andr was legitimately happy about. While she didn't feel comfortable around the river itself, she did happen upon the cabin while trying to find a way around it. In an odd way, the river was what brought her and her new friend together. Around the cabin itself was a clearing, no doubt created by the trees cut down to make it, and small pond off to the side. In total, it looked quite homely despite its seclusion from the rest of the civilized lands.

"Hey Andr," Patrick said, taking a momentary breather from atop the hill's peak, "do you think you can teleport us from here to the cabin?" Andr squinted, trying to judge the distance between herself and the cabin. She could definitely do it on consecutive tries, but she didn't want to put the extra strain on her friend. Examining the extra luggage and the size of her compatriot, she concluded that she could make it in one trip. More or less.

"Alright, but first let me take this," Andr stated, grabbing the box of food and balancing it on her right arm, "it might be a bit disorientating, so be careful." Placing a hand on Patrick's shoulder, she closed her eyes as per usual of a leisurely teleportation. Before leaving, she added, "You might want to hang on to something."

As she opened her eyes Andr saw the front door of the cabin, standing fairly close to the nearby pond. She felt a heavy pressure on her left leg, which turned out to be Patrick grabbing it as though his life depended on it. Head hanging low, his face looked unusually pale. Keeping a hand on his shoulder to help keep him stable, she gently placed the items that she was carrying down on the grass.

"And you do that every day?" Patrick moaned, a tone of sarcasm slightly invading his voice. Colour slowly returned to him as he took in deep breaths. Andr had anticipated that he wouldn't be used to the sensation of teleportation, but she didn't think he'd look so drained.

"About a dozen times a day, actually," she chuckled. Patrick groaned in response, but said nothing further. He looked to be recovering quite quickly, though the second he tried to stand up on his own power he reached back to Andr for support.

"Remind me never to do that again," he said, groggily moving away from her. Andr giggled quietly, stifling it with a long sleeve from her cloak. Moving towards the door of the cottage, Patrick made a gesture to tell Andr to stay put. She complied and began to take a better look at the cottage.

While she had to shield her eyes from the rising sun in some areas, it was well worth the view. The darkness and her quickened movements from the night prior had forced her to disregard the look of the exterior. Although he did not seem the type Patrick had apparently taken care of a very large garden. Roses, amongst many other red flowers that she was not familiar with, comprised the majority of the area. Andr could feel her face redden as she noticed a particular section of the garden along the front area of the house. With how dark the interior and exterior of the cottage was she had to look around the sides for the door. In her haste she had evidently walked right through that particular section, trampling a good deal of the flowers around front. Either her host had not noticed it or didn't mind, but in truth she was just grateful that he had not talked to her about it. Less than a day of being his guest, most of which was spent unconscious, Andr had already destroyed part of his garden and raided his food supply for 'hot cocoa', which fortunately had instructions on how to make.

Patrick returned from inside with a large rug being carried over his shoulder. With how he walked, it was quite evident that he had recovered from the teleportation. Rolling it out onto the grass, he grabbed the assortment of books and the box of food from the ground. There was a distinct pause as his vision passed over the garden, but he dismissed it after several seconds.

"Have a seat," he said to Andr as he sat down on the large rug, "I don't think it's possible for you to sit down inside anways." As Andr sat down on the opposite of the blanket she saw the large array of food that was in the box. Several bottles of liquid, half a dozen pastries and a host of different types of fruit all lied inside of the box. What caught her attention was the large pastry dish in the center of the box, a fragrant smelling creation covered in the sugary concoction known as 'frosting', at least according to her grandfather's data. Taking a small bag out of his pocket, he retrieved several eating utensils and napkins and laid them out for the two of them.

"Can I try that one?" Andr asked, gesturing to the central piece. Patrick only shrugged in response, cutting a piece of it off and placing it on a paper plate before handing it to her. Using a 'fork', a utensil that she was hardly familiar with, she took a small part of the slice off and bit into it.

"How do you like it?" Patrick asked, his words going completely unnoticed. Her mind was distracted by the completely saccharin taste of the pastry that she was eating. The End had little fruits or sugars, so the dish that she held in her hands was half way between one of the most delicious things she had ever eaten and sickeningly sweet.

"It's beautiful…" Andr drooled, getting ready to shovel another piece of the dish in her mouth. Patrick shrugged it off, taking a bite a small red fruit, which if Andr recalled correctly was known as an apple.

"I take it that you've never had a birthday cake before, have you?" Patrick questioned. Andr, through her ravenous eating and sudden love of 'birthday cake', shook a 'no', but continued to eat. She had been living off of leaves, grass and red grapes for over a week after her supplies had run out. While her stomach certainly didn't appreciate the sudden rush of sugar, it was the first proper meal she had had in a long while.

"You might want to have something to drink," Patrick offered, a medium sized bottle in his extended hand. Grabbing the bottle while saying thanks, she quickly drank down half of the contents, which turned out to be some kind of milk.

Andr's appetite continued as such, devouring the remaining cake, several muffins and half of the fruit offered, all the while showing no signs of slowing down. Patrick meanwhile only had his apple, a small slice of cake and half of a muffin. He waved it off as a lack of appetite, which was true, and that he had bought the majority of it for her. Explaining that he'd never let a friend of his remain hungry after such a long journey, he generously gave the rest to her.

"I'm really not that hungry anyways," Patrick muttered to himself, a hand resting on his forehead in such a position to both keep it steady and to block out the gorging going on several feet away from him.

(Before I continue, I'd just like to thank my only two reviewers, so far anyways, for… well… reviewing! This chapter was more of a transitional chapter, not really anything of substance. Except for Andr, who got quite a lot of substance. Bad jokes aside, this was to help pave out what happens between the town and their growing friendship. The whole issue with the town is going to be a running theme, but I thought it best and better for the story overall to try and have Patrick distract her with something a bit more happy. Besides, hammering it all out at the beginning would make it feel old and redundant. The next following chapters are going to be about Patrick teaching Andr the ropes of surviving Minecraftia, as only a human would know how, and going back into both of the characters' backstories. If anyone here has an idea, question, complaint or comment, please leave one in a review. I'll be checking them semi-regularly, usually before I go to bed and in the early morning. If anyone's wondering what my time zone is, it's Eastern Standard Time. Just putting it out there if there is a message that anyone would like to send me and would like me to read and respond fairly quickly, I can't answer if it's the middle of the night after all. Shouldn't be that big a problem though, according to the traffic most of the viewers here are American or Canadian. Next chapter will be done tomorrow, unless something pops up.)


	4. Wake Up, Punch Trees

"So you really want me to teach you the ropes, huh?" Patrick asked, seemingly unsure of either his own abilities or his compatriot's willingness.

"Yes," Andr replied confidently, "I want to learn everything I can." After finishing the last bit of breakfast, Patrick had approached her and inquired on what her plan of action was. They went back and forth a bit, him giving suggestions on what they could do, then on whether or not he would be an effective teacher. After confirming that she did indeed want to go through with his plan, he retrieved an array of iron tools from his cottage before dumping them on the floor.

"I've been thinking about it for a while," Patrick began, "and I think we should start with building shelter. You've proven that you can survive on little food and I doubt that I'll need to teach you much in the way of defence."

"Alright, what first?" Andr's interest was already piqued. Most Enderones that had gone on The Colonial Journey learned botany or alchemy. While those skills would be quite useful, architecture was something of a rarity to learn about in Minecraftia. Most returned to the End after a year or two, only a few ever deciding to remain or build an abode.

"First," Patrick declared, handing her an axe, "we collect wood. Together, we're going to build you a new home. This'll take a couple days to do of course, but you're welcome to sleep in the cottage until that's done. Assuming you don't mind the space."

"Got it," Andr replied, "And thanks for letting me stay here again. I know I keep saying it, but I really do mean it."

"You're very welcome, now let's get started!"

Patrick gestured to several trees that she could harvest wood from and she tried to select the best one accordingly. The axe was awkward to carry, more like an oddly shaped blade than the tools that she was used to seeing back in the End. Still, a tool was a tool. Selecting an averaged sized oak tree, Andr placed the axe gently on the ground before approaching it. Patrick began to speak up, but she wasn't really paying attention. She understood the necessity of him making sure that she knew the basics, but she knew how to uproot a tree. Sure it took a while, but it was quite straightforward.

Crouching down, Andr wrapped her arms around the bark of the tree in a hugging motion before tightening her grip on it. Breathing in for several seconds, she began the agonizing slow process of standing up. Bark splintered and roots snapped, but the tree held on tightly. Moving side to side, she managed to rip additional roots out from the earth. Andr took a momentary break, dislodging herself from the tree before grabbing onto it again near the base. A series of cracks sounded before she found herself falling over, tree in arms. Rolling the tree off of her chest, she stood up and dusted herself off. Dirt and filth had gotten all over her clothes, but she was positive that a cleansing elixir would take it off. She wasn't quite sure if humans had the materials to make cleansing elixirs, or if the elixirs themselves could remove foreign soil, but nonetheless remained positive. Turning around, she saw Patrick with a… peculiar face.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, a sudden flash of worry about her friend's possible disappointment. His face contorted, looking more surprised than disappointed.

"Y-you just…" Patrick stuttered, "you just ripped that tree out of the ground!"

Andr suddenly had a moment of clairvoyance, her face mouthing the word 'oh' as she did. Humans, despite their ingenuity, were not as strong as Enderones. Upon reflection, she realized that was why Patrick probably tried to interrupt her before she began. The issue was that she abilities she had would also clash a lot with his teachings. Patrick had already admitted that food and defence she could handle already, but he surely had more to teach her. While uprooting a tree wasn't that difficult for and Enderone, she'd still have trouble gathering other resources. While the End did have ores that functioned similarly to Minecraftia, the ones that her friend would have been used to would be far underground. In terms of gathering stone and subterranean resources, Andr would be quite unknowledgeable. Uprooting a tree was one thing, lifting a mountain was a massively different thing altogether.

"Okay," Patrick stated, still recovering from his shock, "you brought down a tree. That is indeed what I asked. Alright, cut that and about two more trees into planks. I'm just going to go grab a seat." Patrick briefly disappeared into the house before returning with a solitary chair. Placing it up against a nearby tree, he sat down. Andr bit her lip, trying to stifle a laugh. The way that he just sat in the chair, still have way between dismissive and incredulous looked quite funny. He'd stare off to the side for a moment and then look back to the uprooted tree in disbelief, eyes wide open again.

Repeating the process on another oak tree, Andr began to think about what she was going to do. During breakfast, Patrick had spoken of something that he called the 'Endgame', or what was her final goal. It was a bit of an odd to think about for her. The Colonial Journey had always been both a physical and emotional one. The Enderones that she had talked to, particularly her family, had told her that the answer came to them at the End, both in terms of the conclusion of their journey and their return home. The idea of planning out the conclusion first was peculiar, there were far too many variables. Yet according to Patrick, he had always thought of the 'Endgame' before doing anything. Humans were strange, but then again, Enderones would be strange to humans as well.

Regardless, she did try to think about the question as he requested. Would she remain in Minecraftia, helping others and making new friends, or would she return to the safety of the End, successful in mission but never to return to the new world? While she could travel back and forth of her own free will, it was still a tough decision. If she wished to uphold both lives, there wouldn't be enough time to properly invest in them. It'd have to be one or the other with occasional breaks. Andr dismissed the cloud of confusion in her mind, such an issue wouldn't come up for another year. There was plenty of time to think of it before she was scheduled to return, so there wasn't any rush. She still had another fifty weeks, assuming the calendars of Minecraftian time remained accurate.

The second tree was ripped from the ground, Andr making sure to keep better balance. Placing it next to the other log, she moved towards the third. It was tiring work and her cloak was not helping in the slightest. Aside from getting covered in dirt and twigs, it often got caught on branches and stopped her from getting a proper grip. While it did have minute magical enchantments, durability and minor self-repair, she was going to have to work a while just to keep it fixed up. Still, rather a damaged cloak than no cloak at all. The sun was terribly bright and she still wasn't used to it. The night was more to her liking, but at times it got too dark for her to see. Minecraftia was both infuriating and inspiring at the same time, an odd pair for certain.

Cracking loudly, the third oak was ripped from the ground much quicker than the previous two. Stepping back quickly to keep her balance, Andr slowly dropped it onto the pile that she was making. Patrick, who seemed to be coping much better, handed her the axe to begin cutting. Her father had shown her how to use trees as a building material, claiming them to be very important in Minecraftia. Andr at the time didn't really care for it, but after seeing the sheer amount of greenery in the new world, she was grateful that her father had shown her how to use tools like an axe.

"Do you think you can help me with this?" Andr asked, gesturing to a smaller axe leaning up against the wall of the cottage. A slight smile broke on Patrick's face as he shook his head.

"If you're going to learn how to fend your yourself, you need to do things independently," he said smugly, "I'll guide you in the right direction, but everything else is up to you." Shaking her head angrily, she continued chopping. Andr understood the reasoning behind it, even agreed with it on some level, but that didn't make the act any less grating.

After nearly an hour and half of cutting, measuring and then going back over it, Andr was finished. The sun was becoming particularly bothersome, but nothing more than an annoyance. It had taken a lot longer than expected, comically long based on how quick it took to uproot the tree itself, but Patrick had insisted on measuring everything first. Why he did so was lost upon Andr, but she didn't complain about it. He had built his home by himself, he probably knew that it was for the best.

"Alright," he said, "now it's time to put the floor down. I'll leave the layout up to you." Andr nodded, thinking about how she wanted to begin construction. The ground was still uneven, so she'd have to clear some of the dirt away with a shovel. Wood would decompose with insects and moisture, so stone would be the better base for a floor, assuming she could find appropriate materials. She'd also need to have a lot of space for it. While Patrick's cottage was cozy, it resembled more of a large dollhouse than a proper home. The clearing was fairly large, but it'd become uncomfortably cramped if she were to build it so close. From the hill, she couldn't see any other clearings in the area, which meant that she'd have to rip up more trees. Perhaps Patrick was indeed right, planning ahead seemed to be the way to go in Minecraftia.

"Could I build my house on the top of the hill?" Andr questioned. It was a good idea, she thought. The height would allow her to see farther across the forest and also have natural protection against both the roaming beasts and the destructive elements of nature. Granted it'd be easier to see by any hostile creatures, but there were pros and cons to every plan. Besides, it was a relatively clear area at the top and was only several minutes away from the cottage, and that was assuming she didn't just teleport there in the first place.

"I don't see why not," Patrick returned, bearing a proud smile across his face, seemingly pleased with her question, "but first, we're going to need to mine."

(Alright, so Chapter 4 is here, the start of a new miniature story arc. The next couple chapters will be about building up Andr's new home in Minecraftia and having her learn about the world around her. This'll be pretty slice of life-y, with a little action-y parts on behalf of the local fauna and the force of gravity from time to time. Leave any ideas, suggestions or complaints that you have in the reviews. I do read them, and I do take them to heart. If your suggestion is good enough, (I haven't found one that isn't so far,) I'll use it in the story. Thanks for reading so far.)


	5. Don't Mine Ever, Really

The two friends walked through the forest, both of them carrying a pickaxe over their shoulders. Stone, as any architect well knew, was a very important part of building. Even the testificates had homes with stone foundations and they were hardly knowledgeable in that field. Under Patrick's recommendation, Andr would also need to gather stone and other mineral resources for her newest building project. Fortunately for the two of them, he also knew of an ideal place to gather such materials. According to him, there was an old mine nearby, only a couple minutes on foot. With teleportation however, Andr believed that once she was guided to the mine she'd be able to get between there and the hill within seconds.

"It should just be up ahead," Patrick said, trying to move through the thick vegetation. The trees had become especially intertwined, their branches making it quite hard for even him to pass. In some places, Andr had to teleport around them to avoid wasting time.

As they cleared a particularly troublesome grove of oak, they came upon a large crevice in the ground. It wasn't that particularly deep, only slightly taller than Andr herself. Looking on in both directions, the rupture appeared to go on for quite a long time, the width of it increasing as it travelled deeper into the forest. At the spot that they were at however, she could spot wooden supports around an opening in the stone wall. The entrance looked tall enough for her to walk in without much hindrance, a fact that relieved her greatly. Enderones, between their size and bountiful stores of stone above ground, hardly went into subterranean caves. Claustrophobia was a common condition in her village.

Beginning his descent, Patrick grabbed onto several rocks as he climbed down the face of the wall. Several stones jutted out from the wall, lining up in a fashion similar to a ladder. Whether or not that was a coincidence or an adjustment made by Patrick himself, Andr didn't know. Teleporting down to meet him at the bottom, she looked into the old mineshaft. Several old torches still lit up the entrance, a testament to the quality of Minecraftia's coal, which revealed a plethora of spider webs, old building materials, metals poles and a chest.

"A good chunk of what we need can be scavenged from the leftovers," Patrick commented, searching through a chest near the entrance, "though we're probably going to have to get our hands dirty to get enough cobblestones for flooring."

"Why is all of it just sitting around though?" Andr questioned, "If there's so much left to scavenge, surely someone would have come to pick it up by now."

"Don't know," Patrick replied nonchalantly, "the place has been abandoned for years now. The village didn't build it and stumbled upon it when I first started building my house. Between you and me, I don't think anyone else knows about it."

Curiouser and curiouser, Andr thought, why would a mine like that be abandoned? Was there a collapse, or some kind of accident? Perhaps more importantly, who made it? It was in such a state for years and if the village was not responsible for its creation, so far removed as to not even know of it, how much time had passed since it was left? Patrick claimed it to be safe, however, so Andr took his word for it. Granted he claimed that sometimes the undead would take shelter inside, but there was little evidence of their presence. The smell of rot is not easily dismissed, and neither of them could pick up on it.

"Watch your head!" Patrick called as he walked into the mine. Ducking appropriately, Andr followed suit. As mentioned earlier, the mine was indeed filled with old building supplies.

Cobblestone, wooden planks, even several iron ingots just left behind. What caught her attention though was the series of metal poles and bars that sat upon the ground. Wheeled chests occasionally were found atop the bars, suggesting some kind of transportation system. Within the third week of her Journey, she had already found a new, major discovery. While teleportation would be a lot faster than waiting for the wheeled cart to catch up, there remained a certain appeal to it. The cart could not tire, and if there could be a way to automate it, then mining in the End could be revolutionised. She had discovered something completely new in the world of Minecraftia that even its residents didn't know about!

"Can I take this one?" Andr asked, gesturing to a cart filled with cobblestone, "I can teleport this back to the cottage then pick up more!"

"If you can carry it, then by all means," Patrick replied.

Bending down to pick up the cart, Andr found it to be a lot heavier than expected. While not as strenuous as trying to uproot trees, it would prove troublesome to teleport with it. Closing her eyes, she envisioned the clearing just outside the cottage. While Andr would have rather dropped it off at the hill and save the trips, she doubted her ability to blink so far with such a big load. Taking a deep breath, she felt the cool embrace of magic take hold. Eyes opened, she looked to see the cottage again. The trip had taken a bigger toll than expected, but she managed. A period of rest would be needed before she could carry something like that again. Taking a few breaths to recuperate, Andr teleported back to the mine.

Patrick was in the same spot that she had left him, rummaging around in a chest. Old boxes and crates were scatted around the area, each of them holding some kind of equipment inside. He evidently couldn't find what he was looking for, as he was throwing random odds and ends around the floor of the cave.

"Is something the matter?" Andr questioned with a tone of concern. Sighing in defeat, Patrick turned around to look at her plainly.

"Coal, I'm running out of coal," he explained tiredly, "I was hoping to find some, but all I've found is dust." As if to prove his point, Patrick's forehead was also covered in black soot. "We're going to have to mine it out of here, or there won't be enough to cook or light up the hill."

"I'll check down the tunnel," Andr offered, "while you check the rest of the crates." There was a pause, but eventually Patrick nodded in response.

"Just be careful," he added, "just because the undead aren't lurking around here doesn't mean spiders aren't!"

Grabbing the pickaxe that she left against the wall, Andr began making her way down the tunnel. She carried one of the old torches from the entrance to help light the way. While Enderones generally could see better in the dark than other species, there was a limit. There still had to be light to actually see. Wandering down the tunnel, she could see several different types of mineral deposits lining the walls. While many of them looked fairly similar, none of them carried the distinct black that coal was none for. Continuing onwards, Andr came to an intersection. Branching paths split apart with the rods dividing with them.

A single cart lay on the branch to the left, covered in dust from what must have been years of disuse. Upon inspecting it closer, she found it to be filled with cobblestone, just like the other half dozen from before. Before dismissing it however, she noticed that in the corner of the cart was a pile of darker stones that stood out from the rest. Peering closer, she could see roughly a dozen large pieces of coal sitting in the corner.

"Patrick!" Andr called loudly, "There's some coal in this cart!"

"Great!" she heard him reply, "Take it to the house!"

The scavenging was going much better than either of them had anticipated. While she guessed that they would need more coal in the future, it was comforting to know that the mine still had some lying around. If they could clear out some of the debris and repair some of the metal rods, they could possibly begin mining in it again. Grabbing the cart, and taking a deep breath, she teleported out of the mine.

Andr hissed in pain as she returned to the physical world. She'd definitely have to wait longer before teleporting back to the mine. The strain was much more than she expected, then again she wasn't used to carrying anything with her more than the clothes on her back. As an unfortunate result, she'd have to walk back towards the mine without teleportation. Dropping the cart down next to the previous one, she turned around and began the task of making her way back.

After entering the thicker parts of the forest however, Andr found herself overcome with a strange feeling. The forest was livelier than before, filled with more movement. Wind hurriedly moved through the treetops while the insects buzzed about energetically. Yet there was something off about it, something that didn't sit well with her. Pausing mid step, she could hear the distinct sound of twigs snapping off to the side.

Patrick stood up from the chest, wiping the dust and soot off of his face with a sleeve. Andr had evidently found coal, something that he was quite happy to here. He had gone from crate to crate with nothing for his efforts. Of course it would be his luck that Andr would find coal in the first place she looked, while he'd check everywhere but. Still, it wasn't a complete waste. While he didn't find any coal, he did find a few pickaxes and shovels that were still in good shape. It'd save him the trouble of having to find more iron to make them when his eventually broke.

Placing the tools in a relatively unworn barrel, he began to bring them towards the mine entrance. He hardly ever came to the mine, not after that incident with the undead coming out of it. As much as he hated to admit it, he was still scared of the place. All the dark corners and shadows that a monster could be hiding in, it was a death trap in the making. He wasn't prepared back then, but he was now. Besides, Andr made good company. Even the most feral of creatures wouldn't be likely to attack something the size of a tree.

It was still a fairly odd thing to think about, having an Ender as a friend. Steve had told him of their kind and it wasn't a very nice description. Violent, deceptive, quick to anger, they sounded even worse than the creepers by how he described them. According to Steve, he was once attacked by an Ender just by looking at it. Yet despite all the accusations, Andr was one of the kindest people that he had ever met. It was confusing, trying to separate himself from the rumours and what actually was. Patrick had a feeling that he should trust her though, which is the thought that he decided to stick with.

Finally pushing the barrel to the entrance, he took a moment to breathe. The sun was notably higher in the sky and the heat was beginning to pick up. While it did prevent any of the undead from getting a jump on him, it would make work a bit harder. Fortunately the river remained cool regardless of season or time, so he'd have that at the end of the day. Looking back into the cave, he noticed that Andr had not yet returned.

"Andr?" Patrick called, his voice echoing down the cave walls. He waited a few moments, only to find no response. Figuring that she must have been walking back, he began to turn back towards the mine. Just as he did so, Andr hopped down from top of the crevice. At first he was happy to see her, but his look began to mirror hers when he noticed the paranoia in her eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"I think something is following me," Andr replied, turning around to scan the treeline. On what must have been an ingrained reflex, Patrick had unsheathed the sword from his belt.

"What, why and how?" he asked with a surprising calm.

"I have no idea what it is," Andr said quickly, "All I know is that something has been following me ever since I left the clearing to come back here."

There was an unsettling silence as Patrick looked at her, his eyes occasionally darting away to look at the treeline for brief seconds at a time. His gaze froze somewhere over her shoulder, causing his eyes to widen suddenly. Andr began to turn around when she saw him shake his head. Tilting his head back to an open spot behind him, it took her a moment to realise that he wanted her to teleport there. Still not feeling completely recovered from the strain, Andr gulped before nodding and closing her eyes. In a flash she had reappeared behind him with a painful but mercifully short headache.

Patrick, whipping his arm back, launched his sword into the treeline as though it had burst into flames. A loud shriek emanated from the greenery, followed by a series of feral hissing. A wobbling aberration burst from a bush with Patrick's sword sticking right through its chest. The creature leapt from the top of the crevice, crashing painfully as it hit the floor. All four of its stubby legs sprawled out on the stone, trying to pull itself back up. Andr watched in horror as the beast flailed around on the ground and occasionally bashed its head into a wall.

"Just stay away from it," Patrick said, a slight tone of panic entering his voice, "Just back up slowly towards the mine entrance and…"

Patrick's words were caught in his through as the creature began to do something quite peculiar. Unable to reassert itself, the green monster began hissing incredibly loudly. Rearing its head around to look at them, revealing the hollow holes were its eyes and mouth would have been, they could see smoke starting to rise out of its orifices.

"Take cover!" Patrick screamed loudly, grabbing Andr's cloak and then leaping to the side. Beginning to understand what was about to happen Andr teleported into the mineshaft, grabbing her companion as she did. The explosion was deafening, so loud that is caused the two of them to lose hearing for several minutes. When her ears stopped ringing Andr hesitantly stepped forward to investigate what had exactly happened. Patrick trailed cautiously behind her as the entered the open area.

A crater, half the size of Patrick's cottage, sat on the floor of the crevice. Shards of rock and iron sat around, some even imbedded in the nearby walls. There was no sign of the creature itself, only a large scorch mark in the centre of it. The creature, which Andr had only then remembered from her cousin's teachings as a creeper, faced with the inability to get back up had committed explosive suicide. The two friends looked at the crater, then to each other, then back to the crater. Releasing a breath that she didn't even realise she was holding, Andr began to laugh. It was an odd sensation, but she couldn't bring herself to do anything else. Patrick meanwhile sat on the ground despondently, a look of sadness on his face.

"That was my favourite sword…"


End file.
